


I'm sticking with you.

by FinalSwanSong



Series: Red vs. Blue, Soulmates [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Glue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 17:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10223516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinalSwanSong/pseuds/FinalSwanSong
Summary: Handshakes just got a bit scarier.





	

Simmons groaned as he put down the pencil. He knew that he hadn’t answered every single question, but he was sure that he had gotten every question he had answered correct. Why did they have to have a time limit? What was important was that he knew the information, not how fast he knew it.

He felt the strong urge to beat his head into the table until he forgot all of his troubles. Instead he pulled himself to his feet, using the desk he had sat at for the past few hours to boost himself to shaky legs. He hesitatingly walked up to the front and handed his paper to his professor, taking one last check that he had written his name on the front so he didn’t have to experience that whole debacle again. Simmons walked back to his desk and picked up all the equipment he had brought, who knew that he wouldn’t have to use his protractor? He bagged all of his stationary in a clear plastic zip lock bag and walked down to the back of the room with as much calm as he could muster.

He followed the row of tables to the door leading to the outside and took one last glance about the room, taking in the others loitering about and discussing their answers. Simmons could never stand discussing his answers with others, it just made him feel worse about what he’d done. He shoved the doors apart and covered his eyes as he stepped out into the bright, blinding world. Why was the world so bright and happy while he was so very crushed?

Simmons began to walk away from the testing hall and towards the nearest escape route to return home and prepare himself for the storm his father would inevitably kick up, but he was distracted by the sound of a voice he recognised. A voice that promised normality. The voice of a great man that Simmons would follow into battle if he had to.

“Where’s Lopez when you need him? Damn dirty Blues needing him for their little project.” Sarge began to grumble to himself about the various evil things that the Blues did on a daily basis.

“I though Lopez volunteered to join their group when he heard that you weren’t in it?” The guy beside Sarge asked. Donut?

“That’s not important! What’s important is that they’re trying to kidnap Lopez! I should have realised sooner. They’re probably forcing him to make them some kind of giant killer robot! Those dirty backstabbing Blues with their evil mind control rays!”

“Who? Freckles? Caboose designed him, if he was killer, it would not be on purpose.”

Simmons ran up to the chatting pair and unthinkingly threw his arms around the two, one around each of their shoulders. Sarge spun to the contact and saw Simmons and stopped the punch he was preparing for the Blue that was quite possibly ambushing or attempting to assassinate him. The other person didn’t even bother to turn around to face Simmons.

“Ah, Simmons,” Sarge said. “Good to see you here. The Red team has been increased by one handicap! To make it more fair for those scrawny, little Blues!”

Simmons suddenly realised his mistake and saw that the person he had his left arm around was not Donut as he had originally thought. Simmons blinked and tried to retract his arm from the stranger, ever cautious of new people. But his arm didn’t budge. It was stuck fast, as if he was a paperclip stuck to the world’s biggest magnet.

The person turned to face Simmons and Simmons came face to face with a slightly angry guy who was slightly chubby and looked as though he hadn’t done a single honest day of work in his life. Or any day of work for that matter, honest or not. “Dude, hands off,” The stranger indignantly exclaimed.

Simmons once again tried to yank his arm away from this evidently hostile person, but his arm just would not budge. He looked to Sarge for assistance, but his leader was looking away from them at a cheery Tucker who was emerging from one of the nearby buildings. Sarge appeared to be glaring at the Blue and muttering curses under his breath. Simmons made a pained face and attempted to remove himself from the persons of the stranger again. Releasing Sarge from beneath his right arm, Simmons yanked as hard as he could to free himself from his own grip, only to find that he was well and truly stuck.

Simmons gulped.

No.

Please.

Not now.

Not today.

Not here.

Not him.

This was the worst possible time, place, day and present company for this to happen to him. It was like the universe was laughing at him while making everything as bad as it possibly could be. Damn you Murphy! Simmons felt sick to his stomach as he watched the realisation slowly spread through his soulmate’s face. He didn’t look too thrilled about the arrangement either, if his alarmed expression was anything to go by, eyes widening in shock. Simmons couldn’t deal with the emotional stress of finding his soulmate right after the intellectual stress of the test and before the, undoubtedly, complete and total stress of having to either kiss a total stranger or introduce them to his parents and spending the night together in bed, until their 24 hours were up. Perhaps a personal blue screen of death would solve this particular issue, albeit temporarily.

His friends and parents didn’t even know that he was gay, what was he going to do when he’s obviously stuck to a dude that Sarge already knows?

Tucker walked up to them, slinging his small backpack over his shoulder as it slipped down his arm, swaggering about as much as he possibly could in the small distance he had to work with. Tucker grinned at Sarge, making sure the Red leader knew just how happy he was at that moment, before moving on to the pair, one of which was sweating bullets, and quite possibly artillery shells.

“Hey, Grif,” He called out cheerfully. “I didn’t know that you knew Simmons.” Gesturing feebly with one hand towards Simmons, other hand occupied with his ever-present earphones.

Simmons felt the stranger, Grif, relax slightly, calm down and try to hide the realisation from his face. “I don’t,” Grif commented sharply. Simmons could almost feel the glare that he was hiding within his layers of apathy.

Tucker looked between them and raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you guys being so buddy buddy?” A hand coming up to stroke his imaginary beard.

Simmons and Grif shared a quick glance, this Grif fellow must have unmistakably known at least some of Tucker’s personality if he was staying silent for this long. Tucker looked between them for a long moment. A very long moment, Simmons mentally begging for the blue to have an aneurysm the entire time... maybe he was being affected by Sarge. Simmons could have sworn that stars were born, lived and died in the time that Tucker spent looking at them. He could see the gears ticking in Tucker’s head as they slowly clicked into place. The realisation hit Tucker like a truck, a very happy truck.

Tucker grinned manically and almost shouted to Sarge. “Sarge. I do believe that we’ve just witnessed a very happy moment.”

Sarge spun around back to face them and looked at the trio. He looked at them long and hard before saying, “What?”

Tucker sighed and motioned at the two still locked together via Simmons’ stubborn arm. Simmons could feel his face slowly turn as red as Sarge’s favourite colour, he looked to Grif and saw that, while Grif was blushing, he was maintaining composure and holding the blush down to a faint red in his cheekbones. Then, as always, the universe made things worse.

“Oh, heeey guys!” The energetic voice of Donut called over to them. Grif swore under his breath as Donut came up to their small group. “Are you guys having a team huddle? I love it, we’re finally connecting! Can I be in the middle?”

Donut saw the dark looks on both of their faces, looks of both ‘I want to die’ and ‘I want you to die’. Stopping in his tracks swiftly, he looked to Tucker for some kind of clarification, who was busy typing something into his phone and didn’t bother to even acknowledge Donut’s presence.

But the universe could make it worse, and did.

Simmons’ eyes almost burst out of his skull as Lopez, Church and Caboose rounded the nearby corner and joined the, now massive, group. Caboose gleefully ran up to the group and lifted up a small robot dog with half of its insides missing and half of its outsides missing as well, holding it up towards them all. Judging by the wince and clenched muscles, Lopez seemed to have tensed up as Caboose lifted the dog up into the air and parts of it jiggled and shook around in the air, some wires even dangling out below the mechanical monstrosity.

“Look guys! Freckles is better than ever!” The excitable Blue shouted to the assembled teams.

Church came up to Caboose and forcibly removed the robot from his tight clutches and gingerly handed it over to Lopez, who held it as tenderly as he would his own baby. The Blue leader had seen Tucker’s texts to him and looked over at the uncomfortable pair with a barely concealed smirk. A smirk that swiftly made its presence known when he let it break through faster than a river through a thin and flimsy paper bag.

Raucous laughter broke from Church’s lips as the confusion began to vanish from the assembled’s faces, to be replaced with a wide range of emotions. Donut, rather predictably, was the most vocal, almost crying out with exclamations of ‘I knew it!’ and ‘The wedding will be fantastic!’ and prancing about with the glee of a man who is ignorant to many of the bad and upsetting things in the world. Silent, steadfast support was all that Simmons could glean from Lopez’s expression, though he was a bit unsure if it was directed towards them or for the ‘Freckles’ nestled cutely in his arms. Church and Tucker began laughing more and more, springboarding off each other’s mirth into greater and greater heights. The big blue idiot seemed to be completely uncomprehending of his current situation or his friend’s predicament, smiling dumbly at all those around him.

And Sarge? Oh God, Sarge.

The older man’s right eyebrow was twitching somewhat, sending spasms of anger across his face. Muscles and face beginning to contort into a picture of rage, Sarge moving to beat in Church and Tucker’s heads, swiftly landing a good hit on Tucker’s upper arm as he chased them away from the group. Two of them were still laughing like hyenas while the escape led away from the group.

“I’m going to punch you so hard that you’re going to see next month’s newspaper!”

“That…” Raising one hand to bring it down, pointing horizontally, Grif sighed a heavy sigh before saying, “Was not at all the reaction I expected.”

Simmons gave him the evil eye before following Donut’s chants and leaned in.

**Author's Note:**

> AU where the first time you touch your soulmate you both get stuck together (works through clothes) until you kiss full on the lips, or for a full 24 hours (loophole just in case soulmates get stuck in positions they are physically unable to kiss in).
> 
> This was specifically designed to be silly and lead to comedy, feel free to use at your own risk.


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